Giorgio for Men Giorgio Beverly Hills 1984 Eau de Toilette
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"Back then...
...was much better - and made of wood!" I often heard my elders say, with an ironic wink at the second part of the sentence.
Because yes, not everything was better in the past. Some things were better, many things were easier, some things were also very bad.
But in terms of scents, for my nose, almost everything back then is better than today.
I freely confess to a certain nostalgia regarding my childhood decade. Shoulder pads, oversized blazers, jogging suits in very bad colors, bands like The Cure, Duran Duran, Erasure, New Order, Depeche Mode laid foundations for the black scene, we sent packages to relatives "over there", on TV Rick Simon, Michael Knight, Thomas Magnum - men with enough chest hair to line Bochum's main station with and enough testosterone to drive a medium-sized deer pack to insanity), for homework research we went to the public library, instead of Netflix we went to the video store on Friday nights, choosing movies purely by cover and description, the gender oddities were far away and climate change was still a theoretical side note of a few researchers.
In retrospect, a terribly rigid conservatism of values that put the brakes on many social and political developments, yet provided a supposed sense of stability and security at the time.
And this is where I find myself now with Giorgio. Sounds Italian, but smells American to me, as the addition of "Beverly Hills" might underscore. I associate Italy with a lightness of being, delicate citrus notes on a bed of mossy spice. Giorgio, on the other hand, pushes the full garden into your olfactory bulb, everything that grows there, roses, cloves, oranges, with stalk and stem, with leaf, flower and root, plus various woods, a beehive was also plundered.
Style-forming is for me here especially the triad of aldehydes in the head, patchouli in the heart and oak moss in the base. The is found in many fragrances of this genre.
A masculine fragrance through and through, tart, edgy, complex. Versatile, sometimes a little too loud. Nix with unisex, here is a man a man, no macho, but self-confident and down to earth.
This trinity with the diverse, aromatic, tart-green-spicy potpourri creeps into my nose, wraps itself around my brain and turns back time. I'm sitting next to B.A. Baracus in the GMC van, chasing the cat with ALF or discovering the world with Peter Lustig. Back when a lot of things were simpler, the good guys always won, and my biggest worry was that Mom wouldn't scold me too hard for the hole in my pants.
So fire up the DeLorean, grow some chest hair and maybe a moustache, put on this or a similar retro scent and let's hit the road. Back to the 80s, baby!
Because yes, not everything was better in the past. Some things were better, many things were easier, some things were also very bad.
But in terms of scents, for my nose, almost everything back then is better than today.
I freely confess to a certain nostalgia regarding my childhood decade. Shoulder pads, oversized blazers, jogging suits in very bad colors, bands like The Cure, Duran Duran, Erasure, New Order, Depeche Mode laid foundations for the black scene, we sent packages to relatives "over there", on TV Rick Simon, Michael Knight, Thomas Magnum - men with enough chest hair to line Bochum's main station with and enough testosterone to drive a medium-sized deer pack to insanity), for homework research we went to the public library, instead of Netflix we went to the video store on Friday nights, choosing movies purely by cover and description, the gender oddities were far away and climate change was still a theoretical side note of a few researchers.
In retrospect, a terribly rigid conservatism of values that put the brakes on many social and political developments, yet provided a supposed sense of stability and security at the time.
And this is where I find myself now with Giorgio. Sounds Italian, but smells American to me, as the addition of "Beverly Hills" might underscore. I associate Italy with a lightness of being, delicate citrus notes on a bed of mossy spice. Giorgio, on the other hand, pushes the full garden into your olfactory bulb, everything that grows there, roses, cloves, oranges, with stalk and stem, with leaf, flower and root, plus various woods, a beehive was also plundered.
Style-forming is for me here especially the triad of aldehydes in the head, patchouli in the heart and oak moss in the base. The is found in many fragrances of this genre.
A masculine fragrance through and through, tart, edgy, complex. Versatile, sometimes a little too loud. Nix with unisex, here is a man a man, no macho, but self-confident and down to earth.
This trinity with the diverse, aromatic, tart-green-spicy potpourri creeps into my nose, wraps itself around my brain and turns back time. I'm sitting next to B.A. Baracus in the GMC van, chasing the cat with ALF or discovering the world with Peter Lustig. Back when a lot of things were simpler, the good guys always won, and my biggest worry was that Mom wouldn't scold me too hard for the hole in my pants.
So fire up the DeLorean, grow some chest hair and maybe a moustache, put on this or a similar retro scent and let's hit the road. Back to the 80s, baby!
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